Not the Last Long Night
by TheNovelArtist
Summary: Prequel to Second Chances. Adrien's awoken by his baby girl, and too many sleepless nights take quite a toll on a single dad.


Emma's cries had him up like a shot. After smacking on the tap light by his bed, he walked across the room to the crib. He picked up the tiny babe, holding her and rocking her in his arms. "Shhh," he soothed, not knowing what else to do. "Shhh."

But she continued to cry. He sniffed her and realized it wasn't a diaper issue, so he wondered if she was hungry.

He made his way down to the kitchen, fumbling his way through making a bottle for her and spilling the can of formula in the process.

He'd been at this for a month. One would think things would be easier by now. But they weren't. Not remotely.

Emma took the bottle, but only for a second. She was back to crying in no time.

Adrien held her on his shoulder, patting her back and hoping that she just had a bit of gas. But no. It wasn't that either.

She did calm a little bit, though, so that was a bonus.

Emma was simply fussing by now, so Adrien relegated himself to just holding her. The clock on the oven said 1:36.

He sighed, his eyes closing and head rolling closer to Emma.

Only to discover that _now_ there was a diaper issue.

He made his way back upstairs—he'd clean up the kitchen in the morning—and handled that. Finally, he breathed a sigh of relief when Emma stopped crying.

"Thank you," he whispered. He picked her up and put her back in her crib, only for her to fuss again. He groaned, picking her back up to hold her. Apparently, the 'rocking to sleep' phase wasn't going to end any time soon.

He sat down on the bed, holding Emma in his lap. "You need to sleep," he mumbled.

She stared up at him with blue eyes. Chloe's blue eyes.

It would be so much easier if she was here. If he had someone to lean on. Alya was the best friend he could possibly ask for, but she wasn't Adrien's wife. She wasn't Emma's mother.

He wondered if he could call her. She was usually up late. But… probably not this late. And if she was finally getting sleep, he didn't want to wake her.

But it was hard. And he was tired. And he felt like he hadn't talked to her in a while.

His phone glowed on the nightstand, and he caught sight of the beginnings of a message.

From Alya.

Without thinking, he reached for his phone and called her.

She answered on the first ring. "So you _are_ awake."

"Emma was fussing."

"Yup. It's called a newborn."

Emma was just over a month old, but to Adrien, it was the same difference.

"Just got back into town," Alya said. "Flight was way delayed, but I'm here and just wanted to check in on you."

"I'm holding on."

"My guess is barely."

He didn't even have to answer that.

"You okay?"

"It's hard."

"I know it is, sunshine," Alya cooed softly. "But you're doing a great job."

Adrien looked down at Emma in his lap. Her eyes blinked slowly and only opened half-way. She was getting drowsy again. Hopefully. "Best I can."

"That's all you can do," she assured.

"I wish Chloe was here."

There was a pause on the other end. "I wish she was, too. For your sake and for Emma's."

Adrien just remained quiet as he watched Emma close her eyes as sleep overtook her. "Emma's finally asleep," he whispered.

"Then should I let you go?"

"No. Please don't."

"Okay," she said. "Do you want me to come over in the morning?"

"Please?"

"You got it. Early or…?"

"I don't sleep in anymore if that's what you're asking."

"First thing in the morning, then. I'll bring breakfast."

"Perfect."

"Then we can talk about ways to help you through this."

He had to swallow the emotion that swelled up inside him.

"Because you need help," Alya said. "And as much as I want to be there for you all the time, I can't."

"I know. I'm sorry for being so dependent —"

"No. No. And No," Alya chastised. "You are not dependent. You are not a bother. You are not a nuisance. You are a single man with a five-week-old baby. You didn't exactly choose your life to be that way, but it's where you are, and I will _gladly_ help you out since you're struggling."

Adrien felt the tears roll down his cheeks. "I love you."

"Love you, too, sweetheart. Now, calm down; no need to cry. I'll be there in the morning with breakfast, hot cocoa, an extra set of hands that know how to change a diaper, and an ear to listen. Okay."

"Are you sure I can't marry you?"

"You just got divorced. I'd say work though that before dropping on a knee."

Adrien chuckled, the tears now stopped through there were still evidence on his cheeks. He wiped them away. "You're still the best."

"I know, hun. That's why I'm demanding the title of Aunt."

"Yours."

"Thank you. Now, get some sleep if you can knowing I'll be there in the morning."

"Thank you, Alya."

"And know that I don't care if you're in your pjs or not."

Adrien grinned. "Thank you."

"You know I got your back, Adrien," she said, smile clear on her face. "Though you were always my favorite, Chloe was my friend, too. Good night."

"Night."

With that, the line went dead. Adrien set it aside, then picked up Emma and placed her back in her crib, all while hoping that she'd stay asleep.

When Adrien collapsed back onto his bed, his head hitting the pillow, he stared up at the ceiling for a while. He didn't want to cry again; he knew he'd be doing enough of that with Alya in the morning. It was all just so hard, balancing his job and Emma, who was basically a full-time job herself, on his own. His father had stepped up to try to help, but it wasn't exactly the best. They were still mending their relationship. Then Nathalie was very awkward around Emma, though she did offer more assistance than his father.

Then there was Alya who was basically his lifeline, but he couldn't hang onto her all the time. He had to let go. Meaning he was on his own.

It was hard.

And lonely.

But he was strong. He made it though when his mother passed. He'd make it through this somehow. His little girl depended on it.

* * *

Adrien tackled Alya in a hug when she showed up with bakery treats and hot cocoa.

"My proposal still stands."

"And so does my stance on it," she countered. Then she grinned and returned his hug. "But I still love you."

He squeezed her tighter.

A little cry caught his attention. Instinctively, he started up the stairs before a hand stopped him. "You, food. Eat. I got Emma."

He smiled. "Thank you."

"I got you," she said, patting his arm before heading up to grab Emma from her crib.

Adrien went into the kitchen, only to be reminded of the spilled formula can. He dropped the bag of goodies on the table, then took a moment to clean that up and make a fresh bottle for when Alya came back down with Emma.

By the time he sat down and dug into the croissants, Alya rounded the corner cooing at Emma in her arms.

Emma fussed, but Adrien guessed it was because she was hungry.

Alya looked at the fresh bottle with pursed lips. "Thank you, but I could have gotten it."

He shrugged.

Emma took the offered bottle, and her fussing stopped immediately.

"So," Alya started. "I have an idea."

"For?"

"Help with Emma."

"I'd take any help you can give."

"A nanny."

Adrien blinked a few times. "A nanny?"

Alya nodded. "Someone you can hand Emma off to so you can get work done and maybe even have a little time to relax."

His lips pursed in thought.

"Adrien, you will still be her dad," Alya said. "And you will be a great dad. The best dad in the whole wide world. _But_ you cannot do this alone. I know you can't. No matter how hard you're trying. And you're trying really fricking hard."

Adrien stared at the croissant a while longer before forcing himself to look back up to Alya. "Okay," he said. "Okay. Nanny. Where do I find one of those?"

"I have contacts," Alya said with a shrug. "I might know of one with a really good reputation. I'll do a little digging, then get you her name and number."

"I would really appreciate it."

Alya grinned then took the seat beside Adrien at the table. "You know I got your back."

He reached an arm around her shoulders. "I know," he said, giving her a squeeze. "And I'm so thankful you do."


End file.
